


I'm Broken (and you can't fix me)

by stillbored516



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety, Blood, Cutting, Depression, Eating Disorders, Fluff and Angst, High School, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:32:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10042697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillbored516/pseuds/stillbored516
Summary: You are a freshman in highschool. You have no idea what you're doing with your life, except you know you hate it and want out.





	1. Waking up can have its upsides...

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write this for a while and just got around to doing it. I will probably keep writing it even though it will be crappy and noone will probably read it. If anyone has questions or comments, I am happy to hear them.

You sat on your bed, back against the wall. You had done it again. You told yourself that you wouldn't, but here you are, razor in one hand and red running down your other. You take a deep breath and shakily let it out.  
It's been too long.  
You look up at your door to see it open and- and you wake up. You quickly turn off your alarm so that the persistent sound coming out of it would shut up. You sit up and groan. Why did I have to wake up. You get out of bed and ruffle through the clothes on your floor, trying to find something at least sortof presentable. You decide on simple jeans, a Jurassic Park t-shirt, and a button up that you leave undone.  
You mentally prepare yourself for another day as you head towards the kitchen. You don't eat breakfast, but it's on the way and you exit the house.  
You get to school and go to first period. Spanish isn't that bad, especially since you took the same class last year. The only bad part about that class is that some of the kids in it don't know when to shut up. Nothing particularly bad happens. And it actually seems like class is ending too soon.  
As you’re walking down the hallway to your second period, you trip. How did you manage to fuck up so badly that you tripped over nothing?! You get up and walk away like nothing happened, if not a little faster. Your second class of the day is one of your favorites, drawing. As luck would have it, you don’t have it next semester, which means, you have to deal with five other classes with no break.  
You exit fourth period feeling the same as you had felt all day, crappy. School lunch is at least edible, but you don’t get much of it in your mouth. You just can’t seem to find the energy do anything right now. You get up to throw away your still full lunch, but you didn’t notice the kid in front of you, and fall back onto your butt.  
“Crap. I’m so sorry, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” You quickly explain.  
"YES YOU SHOULD'VE FUCKWAD! WHY ARE YOU THROWING AWAY THAT FUCKING FOOD?!”  
“Um… I wasn’t hungry, so I was just going to throw it out…”  
"I'M GOING TO TAKE SOME.”  
“Um, sure?”  
The words had barely left your mouth before the kid grabbed what was still salvageable.  
With those words you bolt out of the cafeteria.


	2. Chapter 2

You don't have any homework today so after school, you decide to hang out in your room. For a while you try to read, but you just can't seem to focus.  
You go downstairs to see if anyone's home yet and no one is.  
You have two little siblings that are both still in middle school and the middle school gets out after yours does.  
You flop down on your bed.  
You're such a failure.  
You can't do anything right.  
You groan. Stupid thoughts won't go away.  
You look at the time, 2:50. That should be enough time, even one should be fine for now.  
You are in your room looking at the razor blade in your hand. You could've sworn that you got rid of all of them a few days ago, but you have a knack for finding them.  
You press the blade against your skin and slash. Even after one cut you feel better. The blood slowly dropping out of your arm gives you a content feeling.  
You make a few more cuts and clean up. Not a fantastic job, but bearable.  
Your siblings return home a few minutes later and they both immediately barrade you with questions and stories of their day.  
You answer all of their questions as best as you can before they run off to do their own things.  
You sigh,  
Why can't you fucking be like that? Why do you have to sit in a pool of your own self pity and not get anything done?  
After mentally beating yourself up yet again, you trap your backpack, which contains your sketchbook, and to go into your room until foods ready.


	3. What have you done?

You finally decide to go to bed around midnight. Unfortunately for you however, you can never sleep normally. The thoughts in your head are too loud and you can't ignore them.  
Fuck up.  
Useless.  
Bitch.  
Fake.  
Liar.  
You somehow manage to fall asleep to those wonderful thoughts bouncing around your head.  
You wake up and squint. It's still dark out. That's just great, you know you won't be able to get back to sleep tonight, so, you're left with two choices: draw, or cut. You decide to draw for once. Your sketchbook is a dark place, exactly why you'll never let anybody see. You flop through the morbid pages and stop on one of them.  
A hanging man.  
You don't remember drawing this, but then again, you can't remember what you had for dinner last night. You envy the man in the picture. He won't have to deal with anything anymore, not even the little inconveniences in life. Oh well, you'll get there eventually.  
You flop to an empty page and let your mind go to its dark place. You end up drawing a face. You usually draw dark things, but you needed to practice drawing faces for your darker pictures, so, here you are.  
You take a break and look at your phone.  
It's almost 6.  
You think of taking a shower, but you haven't taken one in three days and you're not breaking that streak. Sometimes you just forget to take care of yourself, and then when you do remember, you just don't want to. For example, you haven't had a decent meal in a week. You're just not hungry. Plus, now, you're only 10 pounds away from your goal weight! You get up from bed and put the sketchbook in your bag. School starts at 7:30, so you still have time, but you can't think of anything to do.  
Why not try and walk to school?  
Because you're fat and useless, that's why.  
Oh, shut up!  
You yell back at your thoughts and decide to leave anyway, not like your parents would question it.


	4. Who is this kid?

You arrive at school about half an hour later, out of breath and hating yourself for it.  
 _You're fat_ , your voices remind you.  
Because there is no one around you determine that it is ok to argue with them. Out loud.  
"I know I am, you don't have to keep reminding me"  
 _Well, we have to, you won't do anything about it, **yet.**_  
"How about this, I don't listen to you?"  
 ** _yet_**  
"Oh shut up"

"Freak!"  
You jump, you hadn't noticed anyone arrive. Now you're stuck in this situation. Wonderful.  
"Oh, I um..." you didn't know how to deny that you were just talking to yourself in the middle of the school cafeteria.  
"Do that often?" The girl in front of you asks.  
"What are you even talking about?" You decide to take the ignoring side.  
"Talk to yourself like the psycho you are."  
Still ignoring that you were even doing anything, you debate, "I wasn't doing anything."  
You make up your mind that this girl isn't worth your time and you turn around. Big mistake. You hear her gasp as you walk away.  
The rest of the day is pretty uneventful apart from having a quiz in math.

You get home and go into your room, almost crying.  
 ** _WEAK_**  
You know that you're weak, it shows in the way you act. You can't stand up for anyone. You can't even walk up the stairs without getting out of breath. You're weak, both mentally and physically.  
You need it. You shouldn't. It's also a sign of weakness. How you rely on something so pathetic to get through the day.  
No one is home. It's the perfect time. You grab your phone and bandages and go into the bathroom. It's easier to do it like this, less cleanup.  
You turn on the shower and strip while waiting for it to get warm.  
Turn on some music,  
grab your razor,  
open the shower curtain,  
your mind is running on auto-pilot.  
Sit down with your razor,  
stare down at your leg, you haven't used your arm in too long, but it just doesn't feel right today,  
press the razor and slice.  
You breath through the pain.  
 _You deserve it_  
You hear the front door open, looks like you'll need to hurry up.  
But it's not helping!  
You make another cut, and another, and another.  
You can barely feel the pain anymore. In fact, you can't really feel anything.  
Huh  
You don't feel like crying anymore, you don't feel sad, but you don't feel happy either. You don't feel anything, not even content.  
Why now? Now is **not**  a good time! You don't have any time to compose yourself and figure out how to feel again, someones already here!  
You can only think of one solution to this. Feel physically.  
You cut.  
Cut.  
Cut.  
Cut.  
You lose count of how many cuts you make but you know you have to get out of the shower eventually.  
You stand up,  
you gasp, that stings more than you expected.  
You rinse off and do a quick scrub down, looks like you're losing that streak.  
You shut off the water and grab some toilet paper to stop the bleeding while you dry off.  
You wrap the bandage around your leg.  
Dry off,  
get dressed,  
make sure it doesn't look like you were crying?  
Check.  
You're good.  
You're ok.  
You're fine.  
Why can't you open the door?

Why are you on the floor? You didn't lose that much blood, did you?  
Oh well, you're fine now.  
You open the door.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's not much... but here y'all go...


End file.
